


closer

by babeshee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9624209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babeshee/pseuds/babeshee
Summary: Stiles drags Lydia out of bed nearly every night in the vain hope of finding some supernatural threat. He's lucky she likes him so much.





	1. jan. 14th

**Author's Note:**

> An exploration into Stiles and Lydia's shifting relationship between the end of 5b and the beginning of 6a, because let's face it, they probably almost kissed like 10 times during that time lapse.

If Lydia was being honest with herself, she kind of expected this to happen at least three weeks ago, so good for him for surpassing her expectations. She sighed heavily as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked over to her vanity. Quickly fixing her Dutch braid, she mumbled through the bobby pins protruding from her mouth, “And what is this supernatural occurrence that so desperately needs our attention at…almost two in the morning?” 

“A loud ass boom and I think I may have heard someone laughing like a maniac,” Stiles responded, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed across his chest. “It definitely requires some looking into…like right now. So please hurry up, Lydia!” 

She shot him a glare from her reflection in the mirror before making her way to her closet to find a coat. “I’m sorry, but what about this situation makes you think that I can figure it out? Also, you shouldn’t even be hearing weird noises in the woods because you should be at home. Asleep!”

“And we both know that I have insomnia and can only sleep like 5 hours max on a good day.” He grabbed the left arm of her coat and held it out to her to make it easier for her to slip on. “Now let’s go before the person leaves!” 

Putting on flats, Lydia followed him towards the front door. She recoiled slightly when she felt the cold air seeping in through the glass door. “Your car better be warm,” she grumbled, walking past him. “And there better be something out there in the woods or I will literally kill you, Stiles Stilinski.” 

“See, based off the look on your face right now, I would totally believe you,” Stiles quipped back, lopsided grin present on his face. “But I know that you know that you can’t live without me.” 

Lydia merely sniffed and buried herself deeper into the high neck of her coat, sending him another glare in the process. Her eyes flicked from staring at the dark roads in front of her and watching as Stiles beat a steady rhythm into the steering wheel. Relaxing as he began to hum, she angled her body towards him and said, “You never told me why I’m the lucky winner who gets to chase after nothing in the middle of the night with you.” 

Stiles guiltily looked her way, noticing how the circles beneath her eyes were darkening. “Well, I couldn’t wake up good ol’ alpha Scotty. And I mean that literally. I tried calling him at least ten times.”

“Good try, but I know that’s not the reason,” Lydia raised her eyebrows up at him. “You have a spare key for literally every important building in Beacon Hills. If you wanted to wake Scott up, you could’ve just barged into his room.” 

Stiles grinned, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. “You’re right, you’re right. To be honest, I just wanted to spend some time with you,” he quipped back, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. 

Lydia smacked his arm as she rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes. How could I underestimate how romantic traipsing through dark forests at three in the morning can be?”

Stiles slowed down and put the jeep in park on the side of the road. Quickly turning towards her, he said, “Well, you’re about to find out.” He slid out of the car, knocking his head on the frame in the process. 

Lydia also slid out of the car, trying not to dwell on Stiles’ hand resting on her back in an effort to steady her. “Okay, so where are we going?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at her, knocking his arm into her shoulder. “I was expecting you to tell me. The supernatural is kind of your expertise, not mine.”

“No, my expertise is death, and I don’t sense any around here.” 

“Well, c’mon,” He grabbed her hand in both of his. “Shit, Lyds, you’re freezing.” 

“I wonder why,” Lydia replied sarcastically. “It can’t be because it’s the middle of January now, can it?” 

“Well, let’s go do our job so that you can get back in Roscoe before your fingers fall off.”

They trudged through piles of soggy leaves, Stiles whipping his head in every direction in search for anything out of the ordinary. Lydia sighed and tightened her grip on Stiles fingers. Feeling her toes start to freeze in her cute maroon flats, Lydia lightly pulled on Stiles hand and said, “I don’t think there’s anything in here, Stiles. I haven’t sensed a thing since we first got here, and I would have by now.” 

Pursing his lips in frustration, Stiles let out a sigh and turned towards her. “You’re right. Let’s go back.” 

Stiles was uncharacteristically quiet the entire way back to the jeep and the drive back to Lydia’s house. He pulled into her driveway, a frown pulling at his lips. Letting out a deep breath through his nose, he turned to look at her, regret and guilt reflected in his eyes. “Lydia, I’m sorry I pulled you out of bed for nothing.”

Eyebrows drawing together in concern, she placed a hand on his, stopping the nervous beating of his steering wheel. “Stiles, it’s alright. I trust that you heard something. If there’s anything I’ve learned from the months of fighting scary shit with you, it’s that your instincts are always right. I’m sure there was something out there.” She smiled cheekily at him, peering up at him from under her eyelashes. “I guess next time I can’t take so long getting ready.” 

Stiles eyes softened, his lips quirking up briefly. “Thanks, Lyds.” He opened his palm towards her and wrapped his fingers around hers. “Now, go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Slipping her fingers from his grasp, Lydia opened the passenger door and looked over her shoulder at Stiles. “You mean, see you in three hours,” she laughed, slipping out of the car and closing the door. Running up to her front door, she placed her key in the lock and quietly made her way inside. Placing her shoes in the hall, she watched from the window as Roscoe’s headlights disappeared.


	2. jan 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just fluff fluff fluff

Lydia closed her eyes, and focused on the silk curtain running through her fingers like water. The emerald material was definitely once high quality, but dust had settled into its fibers and made the fabric grimy and rough. She felt a thread pull and looked down to see that the edge of her pink nail had caught on a loose thread and was slowly unraveling it. By pulling on the thread, the rest of the curtain bunched up strangely; the dark green valleys formed by the poor lighting in the room almost created the image of a screaming face.

“Interesting…” Lydia murmured, holding the cloth closer to her face for better inspection.

“What’s interesting?” Stiles yelled, bounding to her side in a second and almost crashing into her shoulder.

“The fact that we still haven’t found anything in this damn house despite hours of searching and staring at mundane household objects.” Lydia turned sharply to stare at Stiles, recoiling slightly when she realized how close his face was to hers. She pushed the curtain to his chest. “It’s like there’s nothing supernatural about this place at all. How weird.”

Stiles gave her a flat look, his eyebrows drawing together in frustration. “Hey, just last week you were saying how I’m always right and there was probably something out there in the woods.”

Letting out an angry huff, Lydia crossed her arms across her chest and flipped her hair out of her face. “Don’t start using my words against me, Stiles Stilinski. What I meant was that sure, something is probably coming and you sense it. But I really don’t think we’re going to find a were-tiger,” She picked up a teapot from a rickety wooden table covered in dust. “Or an evil genie in a cursed teap-“ She dropped the pot with a shout and cradled her hand to her chest, watching as blood dripped from her palm.

Stiles hurried over to her in two long strides, his brown eyes wide in shock and concern. “Lydia, shit!” He enveloped her small hand with his long fingers and opened her palm to him. “How the hell did that happen?”

Lydia let out a shaky laugh. “It was probably that evil genie.”

Stiles’ lips quirked up in a crooked smile only to quickly drop again at the sight of flashing lights outside. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Lydia froze, her green eyes widening in horror and her hand rigid in Stiles’ grip. “Is that the police? What the hell are the police doing here?”

Stiles just stared back in equal amounts of shock and fear before he shook his head and ran up the grubby spiral staircase, pulling Lydia with him. Slipping on the top step, he turned around to glare at the offending object and pulled Lydia into the closest bedroom. Spotting a closet, he sprinted for the door, urged her in first and then backed in while quietly shutting the door.

Feeling her elbow jammed into his lower back, Stiles cautiously turned his body so that he was facing Lydia. His chest heaved as he tried to get his breathing under control, and he could feel Lydia’s arms brushing up against his own with each gasp she took.

“Stiles,” Lydia said breathlessly, her whisper sounding hoarse and strained. “Why in the hell are the police here?”

“Well,” Stiles tried to scratch at his face, but quickly stopped when he felt his hand bump into Lydia’s hipbone. “I guess it’s because I heard my dad and his deputies talking about recent activity here over the radio.”

“And when did you hear this information?” Lydia’s eyes were bottle green in this dim light.

He guiltily shifted his eyes away from her angry gaze. “Uh, about three hours ago…probably.”

“Or fifteen minutes before you called me saying that you definitely found something creepy that we had to check out?”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to describe it too.” Stiles looked down at his hand, feeling something wet dripping down his fingers. Careful to avoid accidentally running his hand up Lydia’s side, he brought his hand inches from his face to better inspect it. He watched as a drop of blood reversed its path from the tip of his finger back down to the knuckle. “Shit, Lydia! You’re still bleeding.”

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to bleed all over you.” Lydia looked around for something to wipe his hand with. “Hold on, let me find something…” She looked behind her for any type of cloth, but found nothing. “Wish we still had that dirty ass curtain.”

“Lyds, stop moving for a second,” Stiles whispered, his body looming over hers as he straightened his body to try and take off his jacket. He managed to slip his jacket and flannel shirt off, leaving him in a dark grey t-shirt. Taking the sleeve of his plaid shirt between his teeth, he pulled on the cuff until there was a tearing sound. “Let me see your hand.”

“Stiles, wait. You don’t have to mess up one of your shirts just for a little cut.” Lydia held her bloody hand to chest, refusing to let him wrap it.

“Too late for that now,” His mouth pulled into a crooked grin. “Don’t act like you’re sad that I ruined my shirt. I know you hate plaid.”

Lydia offered him a close-mouthed smile. “Okay, that’s true, but I wouldn’t ever want you to purposely mess up your shirts because of me.”

“It’s fine, Lyds,” Stiles gently grabbed her hand and wiped at the wound with his sleeve. “Besides, this is a lot deeper than just a cut. That genie really hated you.”

“There was a jagged piece on the handle.” Lydia watched as his fingers ghosted over her palm, skirting around her injury. Her lips pulled up into a smile as she observed his ministrations. The way his fingers were gently splayed around her wrist and the bright red of her blood reminded her of another time in which he grasped her hands in his, crimson string tying them together. “Stiles…”

He looked up from his task of wrapping a strip of his shirt around her hand, whiskey eyes gentle and warm. “What’s up, Lyds?”

Her breath hitched as his eyes met hers and she felt a heavy weight pressing onto her chest, keeping her fixed to that spot. The openness of his gaze made her feel as if through his sincerity he could see through her into her very being, see the way he made her heart beat faster, her mind race, and her skin pulse with electricity. “Stiles…” She began again, pressing her lips tightly together. She let out a deep breath and shook her head slightly. “Thanks.”

His eyes narrowed for a second, his mouth drawn in concern, before he let out a breath through his nose. “Anything for you, Lydia.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments, his fingers mindlessly skating over her wrist and the back of her hand. “I don’t think they’re coming in.” He angled his body towards the doorknob and slowly cracked the door open. “I don’t see any police lights.” He opened the door all the way and took a step out.

Lydia felt cold air envelop her as soon as he did and she squared her shoulders in an attempt to keep any of the warmth she had just felt.

“We should probably get out of here just in case they come back.” Stiles said from across the room, his breath causing condensation to form on the window. “And I should get you an actual bandage for that hand.” He offered her his hand and when she placed her uninjured hand in his palm, he immediately closed his long fingers around hers in a gentle grip.

Lydia couldn’t figure out if the warmth seeping into her bones was merely from the body heat from his hand or if it was something more, something electric jolting her body with tiny bursts of light. Either way, she was nervous for all the possibilities of the future.


	3. feb 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter 3 guys. sorry it's taken so long. my computer's hard drive decided to become disconnected, so i needed to get that fixed.

Lydia was used to crazy shit blurting out of Stiles’ mouth at any given time. The guy’s ADHD prevented him from being able to filter pretty much anything and that led to some serious accusations and interesting conversations. However, even with the knowledge that Stiles’ mind typically moved at one thousand miles per minute, she still couldn’t believe his latest theory.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Lydia scrunched her nose and narrowed her eyes at Stiles. “You want to risk getting detention for the rest of the school year because of a bracelet you saw our literature teacher wearing? Are you actually serious?”

“It wasn’t just any bracelet, Lydia!” Stiles threw up his hands and gave her a wide-eyed stare, frustration oozing out of him. “It most definitely had some weird Celtic pentagram-looking symbol on it…maybe.”

She pursed her lips. “Is it definite or maybe? Because it can’t be both and they have very different outcomes.”

“Definite, okay?” Stiles ran his hand through his hair, successfully making it look messier than it already did. He was starting to look a little mentally unstable with the wide eyes and bedhead. “You remember the last time we had a run in with something Celtic, don’t you?”

Closing her locker door with a sharp snap, Lydia quickly turned her head in his direction, watching with relish as a long piece of hair hit him squarely in the forehead. “Oh, no. I’ve completely forgotten about our other literature teacher who sacrificed people for fun and tried to strangle me with a garrote. Can you remind me since it’s clearly not jumping out at me?”

Stiles gestured to her with an open palm, his eyebrows drawing together in exasperation. “Always so sarcastic. You’re lucky I like you so much.” He furiously scratched at his nose, shaking his head in the process. “Anyway, since I obviously don’t have to remind you about Derek’s crazy ex, can you please just agree to help break into this woman’s classroom with me?”

“Fine,” She patted him on the shoulder and stepped past him. “But only because I like you so much,” she called over her shoulder, her voice light and teasing.

  
  
  


4:30 pm found Scott, Stiles, and Lydia sitting in the library with their books spread out across the table though none of them were even attempting to do their homework.

“Can we please get this over with soon? We’ve already wasted two hours here and I’m starting to get hungry.” Lydia paused from filing her nail to nod her head in Scott’s direction. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Scott’s stomach is definitely about to eat itself.”  
Just as Lydia finished her sentence, Scott’s stomach growled loudly and he flashed a cheeky grin. “Lyds is right. Let’s see if Miss Walsh is gone for the day so we can get out of here.”

“You’re both babies, I just want you to know that,” Stiles said, standing up to stuff his books haphazardly in his bag. “Babies who are really overdramatic.”

Lydia followed his lead, placing her things neatly in her cross body bag before clasping it shut. “Well, guess who’s going to treat these two babies to dinner tonight?”

“Ah, yes! I haven’t had filet mignon in so long,” Scott laughed. “Aren’t you in the mood for some steak, Lydia?”

“Ha ha. Very funny, guys, seriously,” Stiles bumped his shoulder into Scott’s arm. “But Lydia doesn’t even like steak. She prefers pork. Don’t you, Lyds?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia drawled, tapping her chin as she fell into step with the boys. “I may just have to try some filet mignon tonight to double check.”

Stiles shook his head and attempted to hide his smile as Scott let out a loud snort. “You guys are the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Scott quipped back. He stopped outside of the literature classroom, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “Now let’s check this place out, not find anything suspicious, and get out of here.”

“Not you too, Scotty!” Stiles whined as he followed him into through the door. “You can’t be skeptical like Lydia or we’ll never find anything.”

“Stiles,” Lydia said from Miss Walsh’s desk. “That is the least scientific mindset I’ve ever heard. You can’t come in here certain that you’re going to find something. Confirmation bias will color your search and make anything you find less credible due to your overwhelming need for something to support your hypothesis.”

“Okay, Freud, I don’t need a psychology lesson.” Stiles rifled through one of the teacher’s bins. “I’m just saying that you shouldn’t be too close-minded either.”

Lydia gave him a flat look and continued scouring the neatly stacked folders placed on the desk. A few feet from her, Stiles was muttering to himself as he examined sheets of paper, his eyes darting over the words quickly before he swiped them away onto the floor. She watched as his face scrunched in frustration, her own eyebrows drawing together in concern. His search for anything remotely supernatural was becoming more and more frantic and mind consuming, and she was sure that he was only averaging about three hours of sleep per night.

A loud noise from across the room jolted her out of her thoughts and she subconsciously shot towards Stiles. At the same time, he stepped forward and threw his arm out in an attempt to shield her from any threat. She peered over his shoulder and saw Scott smile guiltily at them, a box and its contents strewn all over the floor at his feet.

“Sorry, I dropped the box.”

Sighing, Stiles carded his hand through his hair and shook his head disbelievingly. “How are you a werewolf?” He asked, striding across the room to help throw the items back in the box.

Scott shrugged, his mouth pulling into a crooked smile. “Well, I don’t think we’re going to find anything to test Stiles’ confirmation bias,” he directed at Lydia, his hand raising to show off a picture encompassed in a light green frame. “I think the scariest thing in this room is this autographed photo of Nicolas Cage, to be honest.”

Stiles watched as Lydia threw her head back, a peal of laughter escaping her throat and her strawberry-blonde hair catching the dying light of the setting sun. Smiling softly at her, he picked up the planner still at Scott’s feet and threw it in the box. “Scott’s right. Let’s go get some dinner, team.”

“Hey, who’s the alpha here?” Scott jokingly asked. “I’m the only one who gives commands in this pack.”

“If that were true, then your whole pack would be dead, little Scotty,” Stiles shoved at Scott’s shoulder. “We all know that Lydia and mine’s teamwork and combined brainpower are the only things that have kept us alive this long. So you’re welcome.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott drawled, slinging his arms Stiles and Lydia’s shoulders and pulling them closer. “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: You guys are pretty good together.”

Digging her fingers into Scott’s side, she laughed and leaned forward, catching Stiles’ eyes for a moment. His lips quirked up and his eyes softened before he turned his head back towards the front doors of the school.

They walked into the parking lot, the setting sun warming their faces and casting a strange six legged, hunchback shadow on the asphalt. Scott’s hips bumped into the other two’s bodies with each alternate step he took, and he felt happier than he had in a long time. He hoisted himself into the Jeep and watched as Stiles opened the driver’s side door and helped Lydia make her way to the back seat, his hand resting comfortably on her lower back.

Straightening his seat, Stiles climbed into the car with a groan, and took off towards the closest fast food restaurant.

“McDonald’s doesn’t have steak,” Scott playfully swatted at Stiles’ chest.

“Nope, and you don’t either,” He quipped back, shoving his hand in Scott’s face. “But I’ll treat you to the fancy McRib.”

Lydia made a gagging sound in the backseat and scooted towards the front of the car. “That thing literally looks like it’s made out of plastic and silly putty.”

“Well, you can tell me if it tastes like it looks.” Stiles pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot and put Roscoe in park.

“Hell no. Absolutely not.” She poked the side of Stiles’ neck before he slid out of the car. She pushed the seat forward and ducked her head as she jumped onto the blacktop. “I’m not suffering from food poisoning tonight, thank you very much.”

She grabbed onto the loose sleeve of his plaid shirt as she followed him into the restaurant. Looking back at Scott with a grin, she winked at him as she said, “But Scott’s definitely dying to try it.”

Scott watched with interest, as Lydia played with the hem of Stiles’ sleeve, seemingly oblivious to what she was doing. He shrugged and raised his eyebrows, “Sure, I’ll try it. I’ve dealt with worse things than food poisoning.”

Lydia and Stiles stared at him with equal sneers of disgust and disbelief.

“It’s your funeral, man.” Stiles shrugged his shoulders and gave Scott a dopey look, his mouth pulled to the side.

Scott watched as Stiles stuttered their order to the cashier, grabbed the tray, almost dropped the tray in his beeline towards the closest table, and allowed Lydia to slide into the booth before he followed after her. Scott slid into the seat across from them and looked at his McRib with concern.

“Okay, so that’s not what the picture looked like at all.”

“Like I said, it’s your funeral.” Stiles gestured at him with a fry. “I tried talking you out of it.”

Stealing the fry from Stiles’ hand, Lydia shoved it into her mouth before flashing Scott a smile. “Eh, his werewolf stomach can handle it.”

Grabbing the plastic fork on the tray, Scott cut into his meal with difficulty. “If you don’t see me tomorrow morning, you know why.”

They ate their meals quickly; in Lydia and Stiles’ case because they were so hungry, and for Scott because he wanted to get his torture over with as soon as possible. As he forced his gelatinous meal down, he couldn’t help but notice the change in his friends’ behavior. In the months after saving Lydia from Eichen House, they had seemed to be getting closer, but as Scott watched Stiles’ unabashedly grab Lydia’s milkshake and take a long and obnoxious slurp from it, he was starting to think that something was shifting in their relationship that wasn’t just friendship.

After dropping Lydia off at her house and seeing her safely inside, Scott decided to broach the topic with Stiles as he pulled out of the Martin’s driveway.

“So, how are you and Lydia doing?”

Quirking his eyebrow up in confusion, Stiles looked at him from the corner of his eye. “The same as always. Why?”

“Just seems like you guys are getting closer, like the type of closer that you want.”

“You mean like into dating territory?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Scott shrugged and turned to face Stiles. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

With a heavy sigh, Stiles pressed on the brakes and came to a stop at a red light. “I’m working on it. It’s just…I don’t know. I just don’t want to push her away because she’s not ready to admit anything.”

“So you can tell she’s into you too?”

“Yeah, totally. But, I don’t know. Lydia is pretty closed off and hesitant when it comes to her emotions.” Stiles averted his eyes from the road for a moment to shrug hopelessly in Scott’s direction. “I’m definitely working on it though. Just have to find the perfect time to talk to her about it.”

Scott patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Eh, don’t worry about it too much. You have the rest of senior year to figure out how to confess your undying ten-years old love to her.”

“Oh, gee thanks, Scott. That’s real sweet of you.” Stiles nodded, a sarcastic tilt to his lips. And then quieter, he said, “I’ve got the rest of senior year though.”


End file.
